


Jump

by HedonistInk, ZeroCrowe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blood, Child Abuse, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Depression, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, M/M, Paranoia, Suicide Attempt, Surveillance, Underage Drinking, but not successful, lance's parents are basically absolutely awful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9708488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/pseuds/HedonistInk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroCrowe/pseuds/ZeroCrowe
Summary: Shiro had taken up a habit of wandering on the nights when his thoughts got too restless, long after he'd closed up for the evening. What was seen as 'very late' in the village would hardly have been considered late at all in the glitz and lights of the city. And this… it was later than late. But it was a good time to wander alone.Or… not as alone as he'd thought. Shiro stopped when he saw a figure on the edge of the old bridge. Hardly anyone ever came out there. But the figure, a man it looked like, was balanced precariously on the ledge. He watched as one hand disappeared from its grip on the railing, heart rocketing into his throat as he stepped closer carefully. "The stars." Shiro piped up quietly with the first thing he could think to say, trying to not startle the stranger. "The stars are… really beautiful from out here, aren't they? There's so many of them."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look we're writing angst again how surprising. As always, with our co-writes, there will be NO major character death in this story. So don't worry about that. That said, the boys are definitely in for A Time by the time they get their happy ending. So welcome, and enjoy the ride.

Autumn had turned the leaves on the trees into hues of orange and red and brown. Branches turning bare as they fell to cover the paths the closer it got to winter time. The sky darkened early and the chill in the wind was more than slight as Lance stood on the ledge. He’d not even bothered to bring his coat when he’d left the house that night, there wasn’t really any point after all. He wouldn’t need it where he was going.

It was as if the biting breeze didn’t register in his brain, the sound of the churning river too far below to see in the unlit darkness was loud, though. Lance wasn’t sure how high the bridge was that connected this section of mountain to the plateau the village was on. All he knew is that it was very rarely used, old and  _ dark _ and probably enough to kill him. If it didn’t the water below and it’s current would likely drag him under and finish the job anyway. He wondered how much it would hurt when he hit the water but he wasn’t sure he’d care.

Lance shifted his feet, his long sleeved t-shirt catching in the wind and flipping up at his waist for a moment before coming to rest again. Jeans wrapped tight around numb legs as he leaned forwards with a hitch of breath. Just a few more inches and it’d be over. He wouldn’t feel like this any more, he wouldn’t compulsively draw lines on his arms and legs whenever he was alone in the bathroom at school. He wouldn’t have to show anyone else that numb fake grin and the empty jokes and pleasantries. Lance let go of the railing behind him with one hand, gripping the shirt across his stomach as he wondered if it was quicker to fall feet or head first.

The small town atmosphere was always nice in the evenings. It was quiet, peaceful, a soft sort of calm that helped to calm the chaos itching at the edges of Shiro's thoughts. It was better than the city that only ever seemed to spin things louder, faster, brighter. No, since moving out to the village Shiro had made strides at getting himself in check that he was sure he wouldn't have been able to make anywhere else. 

Shiro had taken up a habit of wandering on the nights when his thoughts got too restless, long after he'd closed up for the evening. What was seen as 'very late' in the village would hardly have been considered late at all in the glitz and lights of the city. And this… it was later than late. But it was a good time to wander alone. 

Or… not as alone as he'd thought. Shiro stopped when he saw a figure on the edge of the old bridge. Hardly anyone ever came out there. But the figure, a man it looked like, was balanced precariously on the ledge. He watched as one hand disappeared from its grip on the railing, heart rocketing into his throat as he stepped closer carefully. "The stars." Shiro piped up quietly with the first thing he could think to say, trying to not startle the stranger. "The stars are… really beautiful from out here, aren't they? There's so  _ many _ of them." 

Lance was absorbed in staring at the darkness below, the occasional hint of white where the water was especially choppy the only thing he could make out. Even when he squinted. But then there was another sound and Lance jolted in surprise. His grip automatically tightening on the railing and his shirt as the man said something about the stars. Lance turned his head slowly staring at the man was if he’d grown a second head. Of all the things to say when you stumble across someone standing on the wrong side of the railing on a bridge, in the middle of the night… He’d said how nice the stars were.  

Lance turned his head back and looked down again, suddenly his heart was racing and his eyes felt like they were watering. This was something he was supposed to be  _ alone _ for. He was pretty much alone the rest of the time so why  _ now _ did some stranger take an interest, what was he even doing out when it was so cold. There was even a snow storm forecast in a couple of hours despite the clear sky right now. Though if anything the cloud lessness is what made it even more chilled. Lance let go for the railing with his other hand then. Both grasping the shirt at his midsection as he hunched in on himself slightly, ass resting against the railings but feet half off the ledge. “You should get home before it snows.” His voice came out flat and dull, and even though he knew his usual attitude was a well played act it was strange to hear himself speaking when he wasn’t forcing the cheer.

Shiro watched the man hesitantly, hearing the thrum of his own heartbeat in his ears. The figure looked at him for a moment but then he looked away again. Looked  _ down _ again. No, no he wasn't just going to  _ watch _ this. He wasn't going to  _ walk away _ either. The stranger was letting go of the railing then and Shiro scrambled for something,  _ anything _ to say. Something to hopefully at least get him back on the  _ right _ side of the old railing. 

"I don't mind the snow." Shiro bit his lip for a moment, taking a hesitant step closer. "Canis Major. That's… that's my favourite. Just there, you see?" Shiro reached out an arm, pointing up and ahead of them. "The really bright one. That's Sirius. It's… it's easy to see this time of year. Rises early." There was a guy on a bridge and Shiro was rambling on about  _ stars _ . Still, if he could at least get the stranger  _ talking _ , that would be something. "I always like to look at them when there's too much going on in my head. What about you?" 

Lance heard him take a step closer but only curled forward a bit more in response. The man was still talking, still not leaving. His balance was less steady but still not unsteady enough to let him fall. Not yet. This guy was going to see something he really didn’t want to see if he didn’t leave soon. Lance had only just got the nerve up to do it; he’d convinced himself it wasn’t going to hurt, that it’d would be quick and final and  _ relief _ .

But the other man was talking about the stars and Lance loved and loathed the stars because they were beautiful but made him feel even more alone when he watched them from his window. From his empty house. He felt his shoulders hitch with a silent sob and frowned, glaring at the dark below at how wimpy he felt with someone  _ there _ to see what he wanted to do. “Hydra…” Lance’s voice cracked but then he got annoyed with himself for making any conversation. For interacting despite his plans to end it. “T’ch- ngh.” Lance swiped angrily at his eyes with the back of a hand and shook his head. “You should turn around and walk away if you dun wanna see it.” His voice was almost swallowed by the blackness below as he spoke and moved a foot out, hovering above the drop so that the only point of contact with the bridge was the one still planted on it’s ledge. “ _ Please _ …”

Shiro couldn't help feeling hopeful at the response, the slight  _ spark _ of conversation. That was something. But then the stranger was scoffing and swiping at his eyes and warning him to  _ turn around and walk away _ . He wasn't going to do that. He  _ couldn't _ just walk away. Whatever this guy's deal was… No. Shiro wasn't going to walk away and he wasn't going to just watch it happen. 

The slight movement was what spurred Shiro into movement. With quick reflexes, he closed the last of the space, leaning out over the railing and wrapping his arms in a tight hold around the smaller man. He pulled, hefting him back over the railing and sacrificing his balance in favour of getting him entirely on the right side, winding up half on his knees and half on his ass, the impact cold and hard against the old bridge. "Okay. Alright. I'm not going to walk away. And you're not going to go over that edge." It was a statement of fact. 

Lance choked on a sound of shock as he was grabbed from behind. First thinking he was finally going to fall before the warmth of strong arms yanked him back and over the railing like he weighed nothing at all. His legs were too numb and cold from standing still for so long that he couldn’t even try to stop their fall to the floor. Didn’t want to. 

The warmth at his back felt intense even though the other man couldn’t have been  _ that _ hot out here, which just meant Lance’s body was colder than he’d thought. But more than the heat he was struck by the closeness of being  _ held _ . He was sure he’d been held close like this as a child but he could hardly remember it, so it felt  _ new _ and weird. It was what made him break down finally. The tears in his eyes falling thick and fast as a harsh sobbing cry crackled out of him, then another, and another so that he couldn’t even hope to speak as he lifted numb hands to grip the stranger's arms instead of his own shirt.

Shiro had expected the stranger in his arms to flinch away, to protest somehow. He hadn't been expecting him to break down sobbing and cling to him. Shiro froze up only for a moment before clinging to him tighter, letting soft hushing sounds fall from his throat. The last thing he'd been expecting when he set out on his walk that evening was to wind up consoling someone he'd never met. 

"Hey… Hey… just breathe… Just breathe…" Shiro reassured him as best as he could. The man in his arms was light, almost shockingly so. He moved to turn the stranger, tucking the smaller man's head under his chin and clutching him tighter. He let one hand rub slow circles up and down the other's back. "What do you need? You want to talk about it? Or to warm up, maybe a hot meal? Or do you just want to… sit for a minute?" 

Lance squeezed his eyes shut as his body shook with his sobs. He felt humiliated but warm and at least it was better than consuming numbness with slight undertones of hopelessness. When the man shifted him Lance was ready to pull away and curl up against the railing again, on the right side of it. But he was instead pulled so he was nestled below the man’s chin, cheek resting on the firm swell of a broad chest as he was held tighter. Soothing circles rubbed against his back had his noisy crying subduing a little.

“I… I…” Lance sobbed again and pressed his face to the stranger's chest, lifting his hands to grip his coat. “I can’t… feel my feet…” He blurted out with a wobbly tone. He didn’t know the last time he actually  _ wanted _ food, and he didn’t know if he could just open up and  _ talk _ about anything with a stranger. He hadn’t been planning to come out of this situation alive, so being asked something like what he wanted was a bit much for him to process.

Shiro listened to the blurted out, shaky answer. A slight, dry laugh huffed out of him but he hummed his agreement. "Alright, warming up it is then." He entirely intended to try to find out  _ why _ the man had come to be standing on that bridge. Or at least do something to keep him from winding up there again. But that could wait for later, for if the stranger was willing to open up to him. 

Pulling back, Shiro stood, tugging the man up to his feet. He moved to unzip his jacket and drape it over the other's shoulders, shivering slightly at the sudden cold. "Here… It's not far… Okay?" He didn't hesitate in pressing the flat of his palm against the stranger's back, guiding him pointedly away from the railing and back along the length of the bridge into the village and towards the bar he called home. 

Lance felt oddly  _ devastated _ when the man pulled away from him and stood up. He put it down to his mental state being so fucked, to how little comfort like a  _ hug _ he’d had in so long. He stood when he was pulled to his feet, the feeling strange when it felt like he  _ had _ no feet. But then there was warmth again and a comforting smell and Lance found himself wrapped in the man’s jacket. He blinked owlishly down at it, still crying but silently now as his eyes and nose turned red from cold and tears. The palm against his back urged Lance to walk, and keep walking until they were at the man’s house, apparently. 

The streets were empty and the chill was definitely settling into Shiro's body but thankfully it was a short walk until he was unlocking the door, stepping through into sudden warmth that made him shiver again at the contrast. "Everyone calls me Shiro. Is there… something I can call you?" 

A small bar sign greeted them though it was closed, but the stranger opened the door and stepped inside. Lance followed and felt like his skin was burning for a moment as the warmth hit him. The bright light inside making him squint and blink rapidly since he’d been out in the dark for so long. Lips blue and fingertips not much better, his toes probably looked the same. “I…” There wasn’t much point in introducing himself to anyone any more, but this man had been so  _ kind _ to him. Shiro… “Lance, is fine… My family name d-doesn’t matter.” His voice croaked as he spoke and Lance stood awkwardly just inside the doorway as he eyed the small booths and welcoming, cozy looking bar.

"Lance…" Shiro repeated the name with a small nod and a tint of a smile. "Better than 'stranger', at least." He eyed up the way Lance was shifting awkwardly around. The poor guy looked absolutely two steps short of frozen stiff. "You can sit wherever you want. Get warmed up a bit, make yourself comfortable. But uhm… That corner is warmest and you look like you could use it." Shiro indicated with a gesture to one side of the bar and the few booths near it. 

Lance turned his gaze to Shiro when the other man repeated his name. It felt strange since everyone else called him by his Surname, even though it wasn’t a typical Japanese one. Oddly intimate…  _ new _ . There seemed to be a lot of  _ new _ happening tonight and Lance wasn’t sure it was a good thing or a bad thing but as Shiro motioned to the ‘warm’ part of the bar he shuffled over there. Still wrapped in the other man’s coat Lance pulled it closer around himself with a guilty feeling, he should probably take it off now they were inside. He wondered if Shiro noticed and thought him weird for keeping it on, for snuggling into it as he sat in the corner at the bar and stared at the dark wood. 

Moving around to the far side of the bar, Shiro turned up the temperature by a few degrees to help them both warm up again. "You want something to drink? Water or… whatever you want really. ...Assuming you're old enough." Shiro paused and squinted slightly, eyeing up Lance's figure. The man was  _ slim _ but he didn't look  _ young _ really. And they were alone either way. "I'm guessing you don't have ID on you tonight if you didn't even bother with a  _ coat _ . But… considering the circumstances I think I can take your word for it, whatever you tell me." 

When he was offered something to drink Lance was about to decline, but then  _ ‘something else _ ’ was offered and he looked up toward the other man. He stared blankly back as he was eyed up, glancing to the bottles behind the bar and back to Shiro again before answering. The lie was shamefully easy whilst looking at him, even though a pang of guilt was deep in his chest. “Twenty-two…” Lance shivered again and curled closer to the bar, to the heat and the other man even though there was a surface between them. “Whiskey…. Is okay?”

Shiro watched as Lance snuggled into the coat. It tugged another slight smile at his lips, this one more saddened than the last. The way Lance had clung onto him, the way he curled into the coat…  _ reassurance _ . It seemed like some part of him was desperate for reassurance of some sort. His brows quirked at the way the other man glanced at the bottles. But the answer came a moment later and Lance had managed to  _ look _ at him as he said it. 

True or not, Shiro accepted the answer with a small nod, and a shrug. "Works well enough for me." He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up by a few turns and in the process revealing the bottom edge of black ink against his right arm. He fished out two glasses, serving up one to Lance and keeping the other for himself, leaning over the bar slightly with a tilt of his head. "So… Hydra, huh?" 

Lance didn’t let go of the way he was clinging to Shiro’s jacket as he watched the other man begin to roll his sleeves. The action caught his gaze and he barely noticed the tilt of his head as he noted the beginnings of a tattoo. But the act also reminded him of the state of his own arms, the fact Lance wouldn’t be able to roll his own sleeves up without being judged not or revealing more than he wanted to. 

When the drink was poured and placed in front of him Lance took it in hand, pleased to see his fingertips were no longer blue but a bright red. Tingling and sore as the heat and feeling came back to them but not  _ blue _ . He took a sip, suppressed the slight shudder as the first mouthful went down and then took another. It warmed and burned him inside, he wondered how much he’d be allowed to drink, how much it would take to get drunk and ‘forget’. “Huh?” Lance blinked and frowned for a moment before he remembered what Shiro was referring to and he ducked his head and shrugged a shoulder. Feeling awkward at this raw interaction, without the buffer of his false bravado and cheer. “I like water stuff… and dragons… uh… snakes… whatever… I guess?” Plus it was one of the biggest constellations, yet not particularly  _ bright _ . Lance’s father was a big CEO, Lance had to be one too someday… but he didn’t burn bright like he was supposed to. He didn’t excel exceptionally or have any drive to take over the company of a man he’d barely seen in years.

Shiro watched Lance sipping at the drink, taking in the hesitant demeanor as the other man answered. He hummed slightly with a chuckle. "Water stuff. That's incredibly specific." Shiro took a small sip of his drink before pulling over the stool he kept in the corner for when things were particularly quiet to sit across from Lance. "It's an interesting pick though. Big, important, but not flashy." 

Lance watched Shiro pull the stool closer and felt himself both tense and lean toward the other man at the proximity. He was so desperate for attention - that wasn’t the false, superficial schoolboy kind - that he was huddled in a stranger's coat in a strangers  _ closed _ bar drinking alcohol he was too young to legally drink.  He didn’t know if it was more depressing or just out right pathetic. Probably the latter. “Mh… dunno about … important…” Lance trailed off after speaking quietly, finishing his drink in the short silence between them.

Not pushing to drive the conversation, Shiro waited a few long moments before speaking up again. When he did, it was after two more careful sips of his drink, swirling the glass idly in his hand. "Did you… want to talk about it? Whatever had you out on that bridge earlier? Listening is… usually part of the job description." He scratched at one corner of the scar bridging across his nose. "Only if you want to. Judgement free if you do. Not my job to weigh your demons." 

With the warmth in his stomach Lance tentatively pushed his glass towards Shiro with a fingertip but made no  _ demand _ for more. If the other man was feeling generous - which he’d already more than been - Lance would take it. If not, then he was fine. But when he was asked if he wanted to talk about it Lance hung his head and hunched his shoulders. He didn’t want to get into it all, not right now, not to this man who was being too kind and calm and  _ warm _ . Not to burden him, so instead he just gave a vague, watery sort of whisper. “I hate it when it’s quiet… silence.... Cold…” Lance dropped his head until his forehead touched the bar, another quiet sob shaking his shoulders.

Shiro quirked a brow at the silent request. On the one hand, he didn't exactly think Lance getting  _ drunk _ would be the solution to his problems. On the other hand… it was just two drinks. And it might serve to loosen the man's tongue further. The response, when it finally came, was quiet and sounded as though Lance might be about to start crying again. Which was confirmed a moment later with the sob. 

"Well there's definitely plenty of quiet around here…" Shiro agreed in an easy tone. Pouring another drink into Lance's glass, he pushed it back, letting it scrape against the varnished wood lightly. "But there's also a good amount of life around here… In the right places? Something keeping you from looking for the warmth you want?" 

The sound of Shiro refilling his drink and then the glass shifting across the wood of the bar had Lance’s hand moving up again to blindly grasp for it. Carefully feeling around until his fingertips brushed the glass and he wrapped around it like a lifeline. It wasn’t exactly  _ pleasant _ to drink but it was better than  _ not _ drinking. At least right now. 

Lance stifled himself as he got his crying under control again and Lance nodded slightly when Shiro confirmed that there was a lot of quiet. But even here was less silent than his own house, surrounded by large gardens and big, empty rooms. “I’m…” If he said he wasn’t  _ allowed _ out, or to have people around him at home Lance knew that would make the other man twig onto his age. So he sat up and drank the whiskey in one go, pressing his lips together harshly as his nose burned and his eyes watered from it. His empty stomach feeling unsettled by the new fluid. “There’s cameras in the house..I can’t…” Vague and weird, probably, but as he nudged the glass back across the bar he prayed he could have more. He just wanted to get drunk, just this one time he wanted to get ‘wasted’ like they portrayed in TV shows. The kind that apparently made people forget all the shit for a little while, the kind that helped them  _ sleep _ for a little while.

Shifting in his seat, Shiro waited as Lance seemed to be forming whatever his answer was. His brows quirked up slowly as the other man downed the entire glass all at once. But any comment he had about that died at the explanation that followed it.  _ Cameras? _ He had  _ cameras _ in his house? And what did that have to do with being a reason why he couldn't go looking for something  _ outside _ his house anyway? 

"So… you're being watched… Being expected to be certain places certain times?" Shiro considered the facts he'd been given. "Either… you're in some sort of reality show, you're stuck in some sort of  _ really _ bad situation, or… you have parents holding something over you? Expectations?" The third option being the most likely also meant he'd just given two drinks to someone who  _ probably _ wasn't even legal to  _ be _ drinking. Well.  _ That _ damage was already done. 

Lance felt tense as his information seemed to be sinking in with the silence between them. He didn’t look at Shiro again for a moment, instead poking at the bar top morosely whilst the other man slowly spoke. “Nh…” Lance nodded after Shiro finished speaking, though didn’t clarify which of the three was the case. Though obviously not the first one.

With a sigh, Shiro finished his drink and refilled both glasses, placing the flat of his palm over Lance's glass and fixing him with a serious look before letting him have it. "You make this one last you until we're done talking. And you spend the night here. Down here at one of the booths or upstairs, your pick, but I'm not sending you back out there three sheets to the wind. Agreed?" His gaze flicked to the window, watching the snow. "It's started coming down pretty hard out there anyway." 

The sound of liquid filling glass made Lance look up to watch, blinking and looking between Shiro and the glass as a hand was placed over it. He took it carefully when he could, but listened to the other man’s request with a surprised look out the window. Well… that had started quicker than he’d thought, unless he’d been here longer than he realised. Even if he still felt cold to the core. His body struggling to warm up after so long outside. Lance sighed and nodded his agreement. “Why not. I’m already in the shit for leaving the house after five pm anyway.” Lance lifted the glass to his lips, wanting to down it but instead taking a sip before putting it back down again. Like a  _ good boy _ . As if he’d ever be told that, or anything other than ‘this is unsatisfactory do better.’ or ‘you’re disappointing us, try harder.’

"Five? That's… a short leash you've got there. Five and cameras…" Shiro sighed, shaking his head. One thing about a  _ city _ was that everyone was too busy to  _ care _ . Resigning himself to his hypocrisy about taking his time, Shiro downed half of his glass in one go before setting it down and pinching at the bridge of his nose. He rubbed idly at the softer texture of the scar before settling forward, leaning on his arms. 

Lance watched Shiro sighing and felt self-conscious. He’d never told anyone that there were cameras at his place before, though the people at school knew of his five o'clock curfew. Not that he had any  _ real _ friends at school, he knew for a fact none of them would stick up for him in a pinch, but then he probably wouldn’t for them either so it was only fair. As Shiro downed half of his drink Lance watched with wide eyes and eyed his own before taking another sip.

"Well… Are there things that you  _ do _ enjoy doing, at least?" Shiro barely paused for a moment before he felt the need to clarify. "Before your curfew, anyway? Or… maybe things you'd want to do if you could? Plans? 'If only' ideas that sound completely impossible and crazy right now?" Shiro let his gaze flick over the almost defeated-looking sadness in Lance's expression, craving to do  _ something _ about it. There wasn't  _ always _ something that could be done, much less something Shiro could offer but… Surely however old Lance was, he was too young for that level of  _ defeatedness _ .

Mulling over the question posed to him he shrugged again. “Not really…? What do people do usually?” Other than school work and homework and the house work to keep the house Not A State. “If only huh…” Lance took another drink, this time bigger until it was almost gone and placed the glass down guiltily. Leaning to rest his cheek against the counter as he watched the heavy snow outside the window. “Dunno… To not be alone? To not be a puppet? Nh.” Lance shrugged again and sighed heavily, pulling Shiro’s jacket up and over to cover his head and holding it there with trembling hands.

Shiro shrugged at the question of what people did. "Video games… Books… Movies…" He looked Lance over. "You don't exactly look like the sports type except maybe running." Shiro didn't comment on Lance's much-more-than-a-sip drink but quirked a brow regardless. Then Lance was staring out the window and lamenting feeling like a  _ puppet _ , feeling  _ alone _ . The words tugged at Shiro's heart with the weight and emotion behind them. 

"So you're under your parents thumb… And you feel like you have no control over what happens. Is that about right?" Shiro mulled over the idea before reaching out, ruffling the small portion of Lance's hair still sticking out from the top of the jacket. "Well you can come by here anytime before your curfew, alright? That's something. Help me clean up around here or something and I could toss you some cash for your time." 

“Mh… movies I guess? I have a tv… I don’t really have anything to play games. I have to read a lot anyway. ‘Do better’.” He half sneered the words and muffled a pained, annoyed sound. There was a touch to his hair and Lance wanted to cry again at the gesture. Weird and gentle and soft. 

“That’s… about it.” Lance’s voice hitched with another soft sob and he grit his teeth to force it down. The offer for Lance to visit Shiro was unexpected though and had the teen blinking and peering up at him from beneath the shroud of the oversized jacket. Still, after school that left him just under an hour if he wanted to be home on time. Wouldn’t he be a bother anyway? “I’m not… I’m not good at anything though… I’ll just be a burden… again… I don’t need money though. My dad sends me enough to buy stuff to eat and that’s all I need it for I guess. Ramen and store bento and stuff.”

The sneered 'do better' had Shiro biting his lip, giving him more context. Ah.  _ That _ sort of home environment. It explained the early curfew. Although the  _ cameras _ were still an entirely different level of over-controlling and obsessive. 

When Lance looked up at him from under the jacket, Shiro pulled his hand away abruptly, trying to not seem too familiar. It was easy to want to offer that reassurance but… It could also easily be taken the wrong way. Or just… in any way. Shiro shrugged when Lance said that he would just be a burden and that he couldn't do anything. "So just sit around and keep me company then. Conversation. Sweep the floors if you want to feel useful or don't and just… talk. You want someone to talk to and I always want to hear people's stories. That's why I run this place. People talk to me here." Shiro shrugged. With the scar across his face and the ones running down his arm and body, too many people always seemed eager to look past him rather than looking at him. But two drinks later they'd be rambling on about their family and kids. 

Shiro pulling away so swiftly had Lance  _ pining _ for the touch back, his hand moving across the surface to gingerly press fingertips against the back of the other man’s hand. The sleeve of his shirt hiking up enough to expose the tail ends of fresh cuts. The touch was too familiar and as soon as Lance realised his arm was exposed he yanked it back and shoved his hands down between his thighs. He felt weirdly warm now though, especially his ears and across the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure if he was blushing or drunk, but as he sat up more and felt his world sway he decided it was probably the latter.

Lance finished his drink then, forcing a wobbly smile. “You’re nice.” He meant it too. Shiro didn’t have to go out of his way to stop Lance jumping, and he still sort of wished he  _ hadn’t  _ but he was kind. He was offering a change to the monotony and lacklustre existence Lance felt he had even though he knew he should be happy. Happy to have money and a house and food. To already have a career mapped out for him, hell his dad had even set up a retirement fund for him already. He felt guilty and ungrateful but he was  _ so lonely _ . He didn’t even want his parents attention any more, they were strangers on the other end of a phone line. “I can clean sort of..”

Shiro's gaze shot down to his hand at the feeling of the contact of fingers pressing against his skin. But his focus hung on the sight of barely-exposed  _ cuts _ on Lance's skin. Obviously recent. Obvious enough what they were. Shiro wanted to say something but there wasn't anything for him  _ to _ say. It wasn't his place; not to a stranger. Or someone who was near enough to one anyway. 

"I'm really not…" Shiro chuckled with a shake of his head. He just didn't like to sit by and watch things go wrong, watch people make bad choices. It wasn't out of  _ kindness _ , it was out of some sense of  _ redemption _ . It was selfish, really. "I just think when someone doesn't feel like they have the right fit, they… deserve a chance to try a different pair of shoes to see if they fit better." Seeing the way Lance wobbled, Shiro pushed a glass of water in his direction. "Drink. You'll thank me in the morning. Should I bring down some blankets or are you going to come up?" 

Lance didn’t even try to figure out if Shiro had seen the cuts or not, he didn’t want to  _ think _ about that possibility. So he just sat and soaked in the sensation of everything being a little too warm and a little off balance and a little stifled. Well, sounds anyway. “Mnhh… nothin really fits me. I’m good at being poop at everything.” Lance felt like he was being suddenly hit by a wall of ‘drunkenness’ but he supposed that only made sense considering he’d had almost all of the alcohol he’d drunk in one go earlier.

When he was offered the water Lance eyed it and then took it, gulping it down and spilling some of it across his chin and chest. “Is this what drunk feels like? Huh… weird…” The thought of being left  _ alone _ down here in the strange, quiet place had Lance’s heart hammering against his chest and he stood abruptly. “I dun.. I dun wanna be alone…” Holding the counter in a tight grip Lance realised he probably looked crazed or something to react so suddenly and strongly. He cleared his throat and looked down and to the side with a frown. “Sorry… h-here’s okay…”

Shiro frowned at the idea that  _ nothing _ fit Lance. From what it sounded like, he hadn't gotten to  _ try _ much of anything so that conclusion was more than a little bit premature. But with the slight way that the other man was now off-kilter, Shiro didn't think it was the time to argue with him over it. He wouldn't get anywhere, anyway, that was obvious enough. So instead he just watched, lips quirking at the question. Yep, he'd given alcohol to someone  _ entirely _ not legal. Fuck it. 

The sharp and sudden reaction took Shiro off-guard for a moment and he paused. But then Lance was apologising and taking it back and the older man rolled his eyes, moving to check that he'd locked the door before heading back over to Lance's seat. "Mhm. Upstairs it is. Come on, let's get you to bed." Shiro moved to help guide Lance to the narrow stairs at the back, urging him up first, not trusting him entirely to maintain his balance. He opened the door at the top of the small landing, steering Lance toward the couch. "Are you okay to sleep in your clothes? I can loan you something if you need but… It'd be a bit… big on you." Lance was swimming in the jacket, after all. 

Lance’s gaze followed Shiro to the door and then back over to him, blinking up at him and only realising now how much taller he was. But more striking than that was how broad his shoulders and chest were and Lance remembered being held against it. He sort of wanted to be again, it was comforting and  _ nice _ . 

Lance strolled along and up the stairs with a shoulder against the wall and half lidded eyes. He was  _ exhausted _ but the edge had been taken off of his bleak depression. For now. When he was in front of the couch Lance eyed it  before turning to look at Shiro. “Can I… can I keep this on?” Lance indicated the coat. “It.. smells good…” He squinted slightly, trying to decide if that sounded weird or not but it was  _ honest _ . It really did smell good, comforting. Plus he liked being warm and it was  _ warm _ not to mention if blankets were added to the mix, Lance thought he might just make a nest of them all and never leave.

Shiro had very much not expected when he'd set out on his evening walk that he'd wind up with a slightly drunk and very attractive guy in his apartment wearing his clothes. When said attractive guy looked at him and asked if he could keep the jacket on, Shiro blinked. But the fact that he said it  _ smelled good _ had colour rising to Shiro's cheeks. "I… Yeah… Sure you can. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a second." Shiro turned, heading for the closet in his bedroom. 

Lance tilted his head as he watched Shiro leave, eyes lingering on the broad expanse of the other man’s shoulders until he was out of sight. He flopped back onto the couch and let his head fall back too, staring at the ceiling and feeling like he was on a see-saw despite sitting still. He didn’t feel  _ sick _ as such, but his stomach wasn’t exactly settled either. 

Shiro plucked down a few blankets and after a moment of debate, snatched one of the pillows off his bed, quickly swapping the pillowcase for a fresh one. He headed back for the couch with his impromptu pile of bedding, offering it up to Lance. "Here. If you need anything else… I'm just right in there. You need me to make sure you're up by a certain time or anything?" Given what he'd said, Lance was already going to be in enough trouble for going  _ out _ at night, much less not coming  _ back _ until morning. 

When Shiro came back with the blankets and a pillow Lance took it and held it close in his lap. It smelled fresh and clean but also held more of the other man’s scent, especially the pillow. Lance cleared his throat. “Um…” On the one hand if he didn’t go to school after being out all night he’d get in even more trouble. But on the other he was already sure he’d get shit and he was just  _ tired _ … “No. No it’s okay… I’m just so tired…” Lance hung his head with a defeated tone. “I don’t care any more right now… just… wake me up and I’ll leave when you wanna get rid of me in the morning.” Lance fiddled with the corner of the pillow before placing it down next to him, ready for sleep. “.... Thank you for letting me stay…”

Shiro watched Lance appraisingly for a moment as he seemed to consider whether or not he was going to be wherever he needed to be in the morning. Idly, he wondered if the guy might be young enough to still be in  _ school _ but… he didn't look  _ that _ young. Probably. Shiro had seen plenty of people who looked far older or younger than their ages though so he couldn't  _ entirely _ discount the possibility. 

A smile crept across Shiro's face as he saw how Lance fiddled with the pillow. "Get some sleep. You can sleep in however long you want." Shiro gestured around. "I think it's obvious I'm not exactly on an early-morning schedule." The sun would be up in only a few more hours, after all. He offered a small wave and then turned to leave the room. 

Lance nodded as Shiro said he could sleep however long he wanted.  _ That _ was a novel and new idea… But a glance up and witnessing the other man’s smile was enough to make Lance’s heart do weird things in his chest cavity. “N-night…” Lance uttered in response to the wave and then he was alone in the living area.

Shiro got changed quickly, slipping under his blankets. The walls were old and thin enough that Lance could probably still hear every move he made. It was an odd sort of unsettling. He wasn't  _ used to _ having anyone around. Shiro didn't entirely hate it as much as he thought he should have. 

The sound of Shiro moving about his bedroom and then his bed was oddly soothing to Lance, if not a bit strange. He was so used to the dead silence that he wasn’t sure if he could sleep or not. But as he lie down and pulled the blankets over him, burying his face in the borrowed pillow it didn’t take Lance long to drift off to sleep. Exhaustion and alcohol helping the process swiftly along even though he had a lot to be anxious for when he got home the next day.


End file.
